


When He's Mad

by shewasjustagirl



Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: Confessional, I Don't Even Know, M/M, Not Really That Explicit, POV First Person, rhink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-04
Updated: 2017-07-04
Packaged: 2018-11-23 03:59:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11394894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shewasjustagirl/pseuds/shewasjustagirl
Summary: My extremely late entry for Tropetastic Tuesday 16: a fight that turns into thirst/sexual tension.





	When He's Mad

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by Ne-Yo's "When You're Mad"

Link Neal is a volatile man.

His excitement and anger and joy and fear all run on the same wavelength, way up high, and it doesn’t take much to set him off giggling or grinning with his eyes wide. You’ve seen it on our show, _Good Mythical Morning_. He says it’s like turning up his regular personality a couple notches, and that’s sometimes true. But it's a little funny, really, seeing what he thinks he's just putting on for the cameras. 

It doesn’t take all that much to get him yelling and stomping around, either, though he saves most of that for when millions aren’t watching. If you ever notice him get real quiet, or sometimes when you see him start bossing me around and producing the show, those are some of the times I got to see him get angry later on. 

He is entertaining on camera, that's for sure. It’s no wonder so many of our fans are obsessed with the way he looks. He’s such a flirt sometimes. He stares a viewer down from the other side of the lens. He winks and teases and waggles his eyebrows, and he wields those baby blues and that broad smile like the powerful weapons they are. 

It’s no wonder, either, that I’m always being called out for staring at him. Yeah, I see the comments. And you know what? They’re right. He’s hot. You don’t know the half of it. And sometimes it takes everything I have to look away. If you were around him in person, you’d have the same problem. It’s hard enough for me, and I have years of practice.

Now, I’m not saying Link is a particularly angry person. I’m more likely to yell about something on camera. I get a little worked up about things. But he’s more likely to yell when we’re back in our office. And I fucking love it. 

If the walls of that place could talk, well, we’d need to make them enter a non-disclosure agreement. The stories they could, but wouldn’t, tell…

And listen, I don’t want you thinking I don’t take it seriously when he’s worked up about something. We’re both passionate people, and I care at least as much about our work as he does. Sometimes he drags me into the argument and I get mad right along with him. He’s so damned sexy, and sometimes that just makes me angrier. Can you imagine how much it would piss you off never to be able to keep your thoughts on topic when you're really fired up about something work-related?

So yeah, he gets me really mad sometimes, too. But that's when it's best, honestly. As soon as I get close enough to touch him, those fucking muscles of his try to take over.

And when I get mad right along with him, that means a little bit of wrestling. One of us will end up with his back pressed against something. Pushed back into the wall or the desk or onto the sofa. It’s a tossup, then, who ends up where.

He may not be more powerful than me, not quite, but he’s damned close, and the tie goes to whoever’s more angry at the time. 

 

But when Link’s mad all by his lonesome, when he starts throwing a fit and cussin’ me, I can’t stop staring at him. You thought it was bad on the show, but you have no idea. Any ability I had to peel my eyes off of him goes right out the window.

When he’s the angry one, his face gets red and these veins pucker out on the side of his neck and those well-toned muscles start looking like they’re going to burst free of his tight little t-shirts. If only our fans knew how many times I got close to ripping apart one of their favorites in those moments. 

When he gets looking like that, I want to feel the heat from that red skin with my tongue. I want to get my arms up under his shirt and get my hands on those muscles and feel the tension in them under my fingers.

So I try, and he fights me. And he hates it, for a second. He tells me I'm not being considerate enough of whatever it is that he’s worked up about, and I can’t help smiling when that just makes him madder. 

I usually let him have his way when he really wants something. When he really wants to fight with me about an idea. But I get my way first. 

 

I just follow him around the office, occasionally gripping at his tensed forearm muscles and clenched fists or passing my fingers across his chest where his heartbeat is drumming away. Then I’ll get my arms around him and plant a sloppy, wet kiss on his cheek. I always get my way when I do that. He knows just what I’m after. 

It starts with “Fuck off, Rhett,” and moves to “I’m being serious right now.” So I say I’m serious, too, and when he says “Fuck you,” I let him know that’s exactly what I want. 

I usually get a couple of new bruises for my trouble, on my chest from when he’s pushing me away and on my arms from when he’s pulling me back in, setting me down on his desk where I can get my mouth on that neck or pushing me to the floor to make better use of it elsewhere. 

And then, without fail, his voice, quavering with anger and lust, drops real low and quiet right in my ear and says “Take off your fucking clothes.”

As soon as I do, I’m face down on his desk, one of his arms pinning my chest to the spot. He’s hot and the desk is cool, and when he finally gives me what I’ve been begging for, all I can do is grasp onto the edges of the desk and ride it out. 

By then, he’s not yelling anymore. The roles are reversed. I’m not sure what I say in those moments. I just know he makes me scream, he feels so good. 

He does talk to me though, and it’s a low, grunting thing. Telling me I’m getting my way again. Telling me he’ll toss me across this desk whenever he wants me there. Telling me I get worked up too easily. 

Sometimes that makes me laugh, just a little chuckle, really, but it gets to him, and he tells me he’s going to shut me up. He pushes me down harder on the desk and strokes me fast, pushing me over the edge, making me come first. He knows I love it when I can outlast him. 

See, when he comes first his whole body goes soft and he lays his chest out on my back, panting and sighing as he catches his breath against my bare skin. He presses kisses into my shoulder blades and works me real slow and gentle, mumbling about how he's not really all that mad and saying he loves me and that he's glad we did this. Worked it out. 

Link Neal is a volatile man. And he's hot as hell when he's mad, but those moments, when it’s peaceful and easy, that's when he's my favorite.

**Author's Note:**

> I'd love your feedback! Any comments or kudos are much appreciated! <3
> 
> Come find me on [Tumblr](http://clemwasjustagirl.tumblr.com/) if you're into that kind of thing.


End file.
